


May I?

by the5throommate



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Anal Sex, And anxiety, Angst, Bottom Crowley - Freeform, Confessions, First Kiss, First Time, Happy Ending, Lots of Crying, M/M, Oral Sex, Porn With Plot, Smut, Top Aziraphale, angst with happy ending, but in a good way i guess, crowley is full of love and booze, very short/quick mention of suicidal thoughts/ideas
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-06
Updated: 2019-07-09
Packaged: 2020-04-11 11:55:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,925
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19109152
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the5throommate/pseuds/the5throommate
Summary: "Do you really think it is weakness that yields to temptation? I tell you that there are terrible temptations which it requires strength, strength and courage to yield to."~ Oscar Wilde





	1. Chapter 1

“May I tempt you once more, Angel?”

 

Crowley’s lithe figure slumped itself against his companion’s side as the two leisurely made their way down the street, both pleasantly full of only the most expensive food and drink the Ritz had to offer. Crowley wrapped an arm around Aziraphale’s shoulders, pulling him in closer. He could feel the demon’s hot breath on the side of his face. With it came a strong whiff of the wine they had been enjoying earlier that evening, mingled with whatever overpriced cologne Crowley was wearing. He felt his face grow flush in the cool summer breeze. Perhaps he had drunk more than he had realized. The waiter did seem a bit concerned at the number of bottles left behind by the pair back at the restaurant.

 

“I said…Angel, did you hear me? Do you…what do you think?”

 

His speech was a bit slurred, a bit giggly. Crowley had definitely put away more than a few bottles.

 

“Angel. Angel,” he laughed, “may I tempt you once more?”

 

Aziraphale found himself giggling a bit as well. “My dear, we had dessert back at the Ritz!”

 

“Wha-? What? No! That stupid little frou-frou cake of yours? I didn’t have ta tempt you to that, you did that yourself! Ha!” Crowley was grinning as though he had heard a good joke. Aziraphale looked at him, not sure if his canines had always been that sharp or if he was just now, after thousands of years, noticing this. 

 

“No, no…” Crowley said. His wicked grin faded, replaced with a furrowed brow and that frown he got when he was thinking too hard. “Not that kind of temptation…”

 

Aziraphale could have sworn he felt his corporal heart skip a beat. Possibly many. He wasn’t counting, too focused on the slender fingers that were softly combing through his hair. Crowley was gently twisting his curls around his fingers, in such a casual and nonchalant way it was as if it had been part of their relationship for years.

 

“Your hair’s softer,” he muttered.

 

“Well, like I said,” Aziraphale managed to stammer out. “Barber tried some new products…”

 

He realized they were just standing on a street corner now, completely stationary. Aziraphale’s mind was swimming in a fog that only seemed to be getting thicker. Damn booze. His body felt to warm, to heavy, his body felt _too much._ Crowley had laid his head on his shoulder now, red hair tickling his neck and metal frame of his sunglasses poking uncomfortably into his flesh, even through his jacket. His eyes were closed and he was humming, swaying gently from side to side, completely shitfaced.

 

“What tune is that?” Aziraphale asked.

 

“Issa song. A lullaby. I wrote it myself, wanna hear me sing it?”

 

“Is that the temptation? A new song? As… _tempting_ as that sounds, I think we better get a cab, we’ll be out all night at this rate.”

 

“Wait, wait, wait, where’re we even going, who’s place? Cause-cause I was thinking, Aziraphale, the night is so young still we could like, hang out at one of our places, together. Or, or maybe! The witchfinder bloke! He seems like he would, like he would know how to party. Though the older humans, they tend to go to bed early, yeah? Fucking _boring!”_

 

Crowley’s last words were shouted, loud enough to turn some heads on the dark street. “You sure you don’t wanna hear my song?” he asked.

 

“Let’s get home first, shall we? You place or-?”

 

“Bookshop! Bookshop,” said Crowley. “I really think I love that place, you know, it’s so _cozy._ Not when it was burning though, not then. No fun then.”

 

“Alrighty…” said the angel, hand out, hailing a driver.

 

“You know they got apps for this now.” Crowley said matter-of-factly. 

 

“Yes, you’ve been bragging about that one for a while now,” Aziraphale answered. “Is that what you’re tempting me with? Sloth? Rather old-fashioned if you ask me.”

 

Crowley didn’t answer, only humming, a far-away look on his face. A cab pulled up and Aziraphale opened the door for his friend, guiding him in with a hand on his shoulder. He got in himself on the opposite side, giving the driver the address and a polite nod and smile, trying to make up for the drunken man sprawled out lazily in the seat next to him. Though let’s face it, the cab driver had probably seen much worse.

 

Aziraphale watched as the city and her people passed by in flashes of blurred lights and color. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, concentrating, forcing the alcohol out of his bloodstream and his mind back into sharp clarity. He sighed, muttering to himself, “Better.”

 

He turned to his right to see if Crowley had done the same, somewhat surprised when he saw the bastard still slumped in the seat next to him. The demon was snoring.

 

The angel felt a twinge of annoyance pass through him. It was an unspoken agreement between the two; they got drunk together and then they got sober together, sometimes only to get drunk again a few minutes later. Their own drunken, stupid, ineffable plan.

 

“Crowley,” he whispered, patting his face softly, “Crowley. It’s time to sober up, we still have a set of stairs in the shop.”

 

Crowley lurched awake, sunglasses sliding from his sharp face, yellow eyes shining in the dark, wide and frantic. “Shit, where’s-fuck, what’s happening, Angel, what’s wrong?”

 

“Shh, shh shh shh, no, nothing’s wrong, it’s just me, you fell asleep!” he placed a comforting hand on the demon’s shoulder and gave a nothing-to-see-here-we’re-fine nod to the driver, now glaring at the two in the rear view. The road they were on must have been a bumpy one, because there was no way Crowley was actually _shaking._

 

“My dear, what’s _wrong?”_

 

Crowley just shook his head, rubbing his eyes. “Nothing! Nothing’s wrong, shut up. Shut it.”

 

“Well sober up then, I think you’ve finally had too much to drink!”

 

“ _NO!”_ he shouted back, voice booming hellishly through the small cab. The driver jumped in shock, veering sharply into the opposite lane, narrowly avoiding the other vehicles that blared their horns at him. “No,” Crowley repeated, whispering this time, shaking his head, “no, later, later.”

 

Aziraphale watched in distress as Crowley seemed to shrink away from him in the cab, sinking back into the far corner as much as he possibly could. Aziraphale reached out, tentatively placing one of his hands over Crowley’s. “It’s gonna be okay,” he whispered. “it’s gonna be okay. We’ve just had a…a stressful past few days, to say the least. We’re okay now.”

 

Crowley only grunted in response, not meeting his eyes. There was no more humming. They rode the rest of the way in silence.

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

Crowley enjoyed being drunk. In fact, it had quickly become one of his favorite perks of being assigned to the Earth. He wasn’t sure whose side had been responsible for booze, if any. He supposed that valid arguments could be made for both, but personally he felt that the humans had really just knocked this one out of the park.

 

Want to wind down after a long day? Drink. Take your mind off the future? Drink. Celebrate the apocalypse that never was? Drink. Get the courage to do something so ridiculously stupid that you risk losing everything that you had just fought so hard to keep? Drink.

 

(Okay, so maybe his side had been the one responsible for booze after all.)

 

His head felt like a hundred pounds and his body like jelly as he stumbled out of the cab while Aziraphale paid the driver, thanking him excessively and without a doubt leaving him with a sizable tip for his troubles. He cracked his neck, sizing up the building in front of him, feeling hesitant. He stood ready to snap his fingers, to miracle the doors open just as he always did but instead just stood still, deep down fearing that when he opened the doors he would be met once more with nothing but a raging inferno and a sense of panic that he had never felt before and would hopefully never feel again.  

 

Crowley wondered if he should just do it right here on the sidewalk to save himself the inevitable humiliation of getting kicked out of the shop by the angel.

 

He was a demon. A fallen angel. An agent of the Devil. He shouldn’t be _scared._

“Alright then, upstairs, Crowley,” said Aziraphale, taking it upon himself to miracle the doors open. Crowley shuffled into the shop behind him, teetering a bit as he did. He wanted to use Aziraphale as a support again, to wrap his arms around his to be guided through the dark shop, up the stairs, and onto some soft, plush antique sofa he could sprawl out on for the rest of the night. He didn’t, however, making his way slowly up the stairs by himself.

 

The lamps flickered to life with a snap of Aziraphale’s fingers, casting a warm, honey-like glow throughout the flat. Crowley felt warm inside, not just because of the alcohol.

 

He was going to miss being able to come around here.

 

“I still have some of that bourbon you like, when you sober up I can pour us a few glasses,” Aziraphale said cheerfully, as if the awkward cab ride had never happened.

 

“What are you waiting for, dear?” 

 

“I just _like_ being drunk, what’s wrong with that?” Crowley slurred, throwing himself down on the sofa. “What-what’s the point of sobering myself up just to get drunk again when, when I can just _stay_ drunk the whole time!” He laid his head back and closed his eyes, slender legs swinging over the armrests, sighing. “I just _like_ it.”

 

A moment of silence passed before Crowley heard Aziraphale shuffle around a bit more, getting closer to where he lay. He tried his best not to react and remain still when he felt soft hands gently remove his sunglasses and then come to rest reassuringly on his face, a thumb rubbing softly at his cheekbone.

 

“Crowley please tell me what’s the matter,” Aziraphale said quietly. “You’re scaring me, I’ve never seen you like this before.”

 

Crowley opened his eyes to meet Aziraphale’s and instantly regretted doing so. It was too much, the angel’s eyes just so _soft_ and full of kindness and concern. He didn’t deserve it. He didn’t deserve any of it. On instinct Crowley pushed the angel away, scrambling off of the sofa and away from Aziraphale. He saw the angel sitting on the floor, sunglasses in hand, looking stunned.

 

“What the _heavens_ was that for?! Crowley, what is _wrong?”_

 

“Shut _up!”_ he shouted back. “Just _shut! Up!”_

 

Crowley rubbed his eyes with the heel of his hands, not wanting to look at Aziraphale. “Fuck. Fuck!”

 

“Crowley, my dear, please,” the angel said. “Please, stop this! These past few days has been nothing but an absolute nightmare, I know, but we’re okay now! We made it! We’ve been on this earth for 6,000 years and we’ll be on it for 6,000 more. And it’ll be one hell of long time before the two sides come for…well, _our_ side.”

 

The demon felt the angel’s hands again, this time around his wrists as his face was still hidden in his hands, yellow eyes hidden.

 

“And whatever you’re feeling right now, all that wine you had surely isn’t helping.”

 

Crowley shook his head. “No. No, not yet, I still have-I still have to, to ask you…”

 

“What? What, that silly temptation question? We already had dinner, dear.”

 

Freeing himself from Aziraphale’s grasp Crowley turned away again, uncovering his face, wanting to put enough distance between himself and the angel in case of…well, he didn’t quite know what would happen, but better safe than sorry. He found a wetness on his hands and face, which he quickly wiped off onto his jacket.

 

Demons don’t get scared. Demons don’t cry.

 

Demons don’t fall in love with angels.

 

“Yes, yes, it is rather sssilly I would say,” the demon hissed. “So silly I can’t fucking do it sober! Ha!”

 

“Crowley?”

 

“And, and I know what you’re gonna say angel, you’re gonna say, ‘Oh my dear Crowley you’re absolutely hammered! You’ve gone mad! Gone stupid! Now sober up, _dear,_ so we can go back to normal and _laugh_ about this _ridiculous_ little thing later!’ But here’s the thing! Here’s the bloody stupid thing, angel! It’s not just when I’m drunk. It’s all the time! It’s _all_ the _damn time!”_

 

“Crowley…Crowley, are you crying? Please, Crowley…”

 

“You know what I think? You wanna know? I think this whole _mess_ is my punishment, my punishment for falling. There’s no other explanation! This isn’t supposed to happen!”

 

Aziraphale himself looked to be on the verge of tears, but Crowley continued.

 

“It’s not just when I’m drunk, I fucking _wish_ it was just when I’m drunk but it’s not! It’s been every heaven forsaken day since the beginning! This is why I came up with this _stupid_ plan, because it has to _stop now!”_

“It’s-it’s going to be okay, dear,” Aziraphale said, voice cracking. Scared. Trying his best to keep his chipper attitude about him. “Just go ahead and get it off of your chest, it’ll be much better when you do.”

 

“You don’t know!” shouted Crowley. “You don’t know that! You have no blasted idea!”

 

“I might have _some_ blasted idea if you go on and just _tell me already!”_ the angel begged. “Please. Crowley you’re worrying me.”

 

“Fine! Fine, fine, fine, fine. Fuck. Fuck!” Crowley began to pace, running his hands through his hair, cursing in ancient tongues under his breath. He wanted to break something, throw something, destroy something. He held himself back, however. It wasn’t his flat, after all.

 

Several more moments passed, the only sounds in the room the ticking of a wall clock, the traffic down on the street, Crowley’s expensive shoes pacing the hardwood floor. Aziraphale watched in silence, wringing his hands together with worry. Crowley stopped pacing.

 

“Angel,” he said, so softly it was almost a whisper. “May I tempt you?”

 

“Sorry?”

 

“I said,” Crowley swiveled on one heel to face Aziraphale in his usual dramatic fashion. “’May I tempt you’.”

 

Aziraphale felt an odd sensation that he thinks he’s never felt before. A racing heart, a fluttering stomach. He felt as though there was part of him that knew exactly what was about to happen, but that part of him wasn’t talking. He could only stand helpless, the demon eyeing him up from across the room, yellow eyes watery, pissed but scared. He wanted to close the space between them, hold him close, tell him it will all be okay. He didn’t. Instead he just asked, “Tempt me to what, dear?”

 

The demon took a deep, shaking breath and said quickly, ashamedly:

 

“Me.”

 

At first Aziraphale thought he had heard wrong. He went through all other possible options in his head before eventually becoming to the conclusion that no, he had heard correct. Crowley wanted to tempt him with…Crowley.

 

“I…I’m s-sorry dear I don’t understand-“

 

“Oh yes you _do,”_ Crowley replied, trying to keep his lip from quivering. “You’ve been around for as long as I have, you’re _smart,_ look at all the books you’ve read!” he said, waving his arms around for emphasis. “Although just because one is smart doesn’t mean they can’t be oblivious.”

 

“Crow-Crowley, dear, how would, exactly, I be tempted… _with_ you?”

 

Crowley sputtered, at a loss for words, burying his face in his hands before running them through his hair, frustrated. “Do I have to fucking write it down for you?” he cried. He swayed where he stood. He was still very, very drunk.

 

“I’ve been thinking about this for-for fucking _centuries._ ” He said. “I tried to forget about it, to distract myself thinking it would just go away but it _didn’t._ And, you know, communication is fucking key I guess so, yeah, maybe putting it out there will make me feel better! But you know what? You fucking know what? I’m a _coward._ I am a _fucking coward,_ angel. That’s-that’s why I gotta be fucking drunk because it’s, it’s what humans call liquid courage, ain’t it? Because if I was sober…if I was sober I could never do it!” he cried.

 

“Then do it,” Aziraphale said softly. “I believe in you, that you can do it. I think you’re braver than you realize.”

 

Crowley looked at Aziraphale, teary eyed. The angel was teary eyed as well, a small, encouraging, comforting smile on his face. Fuck, he was going to miss him.

 

“May I…tempt you. With myself. To-to be with me. Together. Not together like we are now, together how we _could_ be, together in a way that might make our sides blast us out of existence before we even realize what’s happening but it’ll be _okay_ cause before then we’ll be _together_ and it’ll be _great.”_  

 

Aziraphale could only look at him in stunned silence. Crowley swallowed the last scraps of his pride and wiped the tears on his face away with his sleeve. “Okay,” he sniffed. “Alright. I’m gonna sober up now.” 

 

Crowley found that even without the booze he felt sick. His stomach rolled around in knots, his hands shook. He wanted to vomit, though he was unsure whether or not he had ever actually done so. He didn’t dare look Aziraphale in the eye, instead opting to starring down at his shoes like a scolded child. An uncontrollable whimper escaped his lips as a pair of old loafers entered his field of vision and he felt even more tears well up in his eyes. He considered miracling himself away to the loneliest, most desolate, most isolated miserable corner of the earth that he could find to live in solitude for the next 6,000 years as he so deserved. He almost did so when the angel took his face in his hands, gently raising it to meet his gaze, but froze like a deer in headlights at the sight of the warm, soft eyes looking back at him.  

 

“You know,” Aziraphale murmured, “you really do have the most stunning eyes.”

 

Crowley could only choke out a sob in response.

 

“You’re asking…if you can tempt me, with yourself. Because….My dear…oh, my dear.” Aziraphale pulled Crowley down into an embrace. Crowley buried his face into the crook of Aziraphale’s neck, taking shaky breaths, able to smell nothing but that new cologne he was wearing.

 

“Because,” Crowley choked out. “I’m fucking in love with you.”

 

He held on to Aziraphale as though his life depended on it, savoring each moment of contact that he might never get again. He thought he could feel the angel’s heart beating through his chest onto his own. It had been eons since he had fallen, so his memories of Heaven were hazy, but, Crowley thought, this must be pretty damn close. He shivered when Aziraphale placed a soft kiss on the top of his head.

 

“I’m…I’m so sorry, Crowley,” he whispered.

 

“No.”

 

“But-“

 

“No, no, no, no.”

 

“My dear-“

 

“ _Please._ ”

 

Aziraphale took a deep breath and held him tighter. “You can’t tempt me.”

 

Crowley knew it had been coming. From the very beginning, he knew. This was not something meant to end in his favor.

 

It felt like falling all over again.

 

Had the angel not been holding him already, Crowley would have hit the floor, his knees completely giving way as be broke down completely and wept.  Aziraphale kneeled with him, supporting Crowley like he was a giant rag doll. “It’s okay,” he said, rubbing his back in soothing circles as he cried. “It’s okay! You can cry, it’s okay.”

 

“I’m sorry, angel, I-I’m sorry, please, forgive me-“

 

“You have nothing to be sorry for, dear,” the angel said. “If anything, I should be the one apologizing. I’m sorry you couldn’t tempt me but, Crowley, you, if anyone, should know you have to tempt with sins, dear. You can’t tempt with no sin.” 

 

Crowley broke the angel’s embrace, tear-stained face wearing a confused expression, yellow eyes scanning Aziraphale’s face for any sign of deception.

 

“What are you going on about?”

 

“Love isn’t a sin, Crowley,” Aziraphale said, cupping Crowley’s face in one of his hands, wiping away a stray tear with his thumb. “You can’t tempt me with it because it’s not a sin.” He then touched his forehead with Crowley’s. “I’m in love with you, too.”

 

Crowley felt his heart leap to his throat then drop down to his stomach. No. This was a joke. It couldn’t be true. He was probably back downstairs, having been beaten silly and dragged back to Hell by a gaggle of low-level demons, strapped to a chair to be tortured for the rest of eternity for going against the will of Lucifer. That had to be it. That was the only possible explanation. God was forgiving, but She couldn’t be _this_ forgiving, right?  

 

All Crowley found himself able to say was, “You’re shitting me.”

 

“What? Heavens, no!”

 

“You are. You have to be. Things like this don’t happen.”

 

“Apparently they do,” Aziraphale said. “How lucky we are.”

 

“Fuck, I fucking love you,” said Crowley. He threw his arms around the angel’s shoulders. “I fucking love you!”

 

“I love you too! I love you too. I love you, I love you,” the angel said. His voice was again thick with tears, but this time from joy instead of worry. “Crowley…may I…?”

 

“What?”

 

“May I kiss you?”

Crowley had always thought the “butterflies in your stomach” thing was a crock of bullshit. But he had to admit humanity had been pretty on the nose with this one. His whole body seemed to flutter with it. It took him a moment of just opening and closing his mouth for him to find his words, stammered out with the bare minimum of coherence.

 

“Bu-but, won’t it hurt?”

 

“My dear, what in Heaven’s name do you mean?”

 

“I mean…I mean Heaven! I’ve fallen, I could hurt you, like a church hurts me. Or worse, you could fall too.”

 

“We’ve been this close for this long, if something bad were to happen it would have happened by now,” Aziraphale said. “Also,” he added, “I don’t care.”

 

“But you could _fall,”_ insisted Crowley.

 

“But we’ll still be _together,”_ Aziraphale replied.

 

Crowley considered this for a moment.

 

“Oh, fuck it,” he said.

 

The demon grasped the angel by the lapels and brought their lips together. They melted into each other’s touch. There was no hellfire or heavenly vengeance, no rumbling earth or splitting skies. There was only them, together for 6,000 years, together for 6,000 more but this time finally, fully, completely together. 

 

It turned out Crowley had been wrong, he realized as he deepened the kiss between himself and the angel (the _angel!_ ), reveling in the feeling of one hand grasping at his hair, the other cupping his arse, his ability to _taste_ the sweetness of his partner in his mouth. This love wasn’t his punishment.

 

It was his forgiveness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This ended up being three parts instead of the two I planned.  
> Be sure to follow me on twitter @the5throommate for updates on the next chapter!!!  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PQt6RKbYTPI  
> (comments and feedback very much appreciated! I would love to hear what you think!!!)


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i have never written nsfw before so please don't set your expectations too high

“Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh _fuck…_ ”

 

“Crowley…”

 

“ _Fuck!_ ”  

 

Crowley hips bucked up into his partner’s touch, not able to control it. His face felt flushed, from the contact or from the embarrassment of being reduced to a quivering mess from just some heavy petting he couldn’t tell.

 

He lay on his back on the plush duvet on the ornate antique bed in Aziraphale’s flat, the angel lounging next to him, a hand slipped down Crowley’s tight pants, cupping his stiff cock through the fabric of his briefs. Crowley clasped a hand over his mouth in an attempt to muffle the shameful noises that kept slipping past his lips.

 

“Crowley, dear,” Aziraphale said, “No need to keep quiet, I’m the only one that will hear. And I want to hear.” He gave Crowley another squeeze, making him hiss.

 

“Why-why do I get the feeling you’ve done this before?” Crowley panted.

 

“Most likely because I have.” The angel replied.

 

“You sinning little bastard.”

 

“It’s not a sin when done out of affection and love, dear.”

 

Crowley shivered, Aziraphale running his tongue along his jaw. “I knew you liked me,” he said smugly. 

 

“I _adore_ you,” whispered Aziraphale, “Completely and utterly adore.”

 

“Show me,” Crowley said. “Show me then, angel.”

 

“I’ll show you if you let me hear you.” Aziraphale said. At the look on Aziraphale’s face all the demon could do was whimper.  “ _Good_ boy.”  

 

Crowley’s next sound was one of protest, as Aziraphale slid away from him, off the bed, beginning to unbutton his shirt, his jacket, vest, and bowtie already placed over the back of a desk chair. “I must apologize dear,” he said, fumbling with the buttons, “but I have seemed to become a bit… _soft_ over the years.” 

 

“What’s wrong with soft? I happen to like soft.”

 

Crowley saw the angel blush and smile to himself as he slipped the shirt off his shoulders, carefully folding it over the back of the chair with the rest of his clothes. Crowley was mesmerized by his partner, looking at his soft, full figure as if it were a work on display at a museum. Aziraphale glanced back at him, now folding his pants, standing there in just his boxers. “Crowley, what are you doing?”

 

“Hm? What?” He asked, coming out of his daze. “What should I be doing?”

 

“Getting undressed!” Aziraphale said. “You being fully dressed and I being… _not_ …it’s a bit embarrassing!”

 

“Oh! Yes, of course…” Crowley sputtered, face growing hot. He scrambled from the bed, making quick work of his shirt, tossing it without care into a corner. “Sorry I was just…looking.”

 

“Looking? At what?”

 

“You.” 

 

Aziraphale became flustered again, trying not to smile, looking at the floor. Crowley closed the space between them, trousers now in a crumpled heap with the rest of his clothes. He raised Aziraphale’s face with his index finger, thumb grazing softly over his lips, so their eyes were able to meet.

 

“Looks like we’re even now.” He said, giving the elastic of Aziraphale’s underwear a little tug, letting it snap back to his skin.

“It appears so.” Aziraphale replied softly, stepping even closer so that they stood chest to chest, foreheads touching, feeling the warmth of each other’s corporal forms, the rapid beatings of their hearts. Here, surrounded by a soft golden light, his partner’s breath tickling his skin in between each small peck of his lips, Crowley decided that no, this wasn’t Heaven. It was so much more. And so much better.

 

They remained there for a few moments longer, kisses becoming deeper and hands roaming further. A growl rumbled low in Crowley’s throat and he held Aziraphale tightly, bucking their hips together, both fully hard. “I’ve been waiting for this since Eden.” Muttered the demon. “You go too _slow_ for me, angel.”

 

Aziraphale huffed, pulling out of their last kiss to look Crowley squarely in the eye.

 

“Right then,” he said, “have it your way.”

 

With no warning Crowley was lifted off the floor, Aziraphale quite literally sweeping him off of his feet and tossing him back onto the bed as easily as if he had been a handful of bedding. “Oh, woah, wait, holy _fuck_ -“ Was all Crowley could blurt out in surprise as he was thrown back onto the plush quilt.

 

“Yeah,” said Aziraphale, crawling on to the bed after him, seating himself firmly on Crowley’s lap, “that’s the plan.”

 

“Oh, you fucking _bastard_.” Crowley moaned, Aziraphale grinding down on him with his full weight, a smug grin on his face.  

 

“My dear, you are stunning like this.” The angel said to the demon writhing beneath him. Another whimper escaped Crowley’s lips as his boxers were slipped downwards, his hard cock now fully exposed. “For lack of a better term,” Aziraphale said, “ _divine.”_

Crowley, overcome, grasped at Aziraphale’s face, pulling him downwards to roughly force their lips together. Aziraphale moaned around Crowley’s forked tongue as it prodded deeper, doing things that no normal tongue could ever hope to do. He rutted against Crowley as they kissed, his belly rubbing over Crowley’s cock, smearing them both with precum. Aziraphale managed to get a hand in between their two bodies, grabbing Crowley’s dick and giving it a quick squeeze before beginning to stroke him, running his thumb over the head, making Crowley twitch and buck underneath him.

 

“Angel, I love you so much,” said Crowley, sliding his hands down Aziraphale’s back and underneath his boxers, pushing them down to grope at his ass. “You have no idea, no idea at all.”

 

“Well I think I have _some_ idea, at this point.” Aziraphale smiled, ghosting his lips over his partner’s. He sat up on his knees in Crowley’s lap, taking both of their cocks in his hand and tugging them together. This, besides being one of the most beautiful things he had seen while reclined nude in a bed, was also what made Crowley realize that they both were, well, nude. Without him noticing the angel had, at some point, miracled their underwear away. “Is this okay?”

 

“Oh, fuck, yesss.” Crowley hissed. Piling pillows behind him so that he could sit upright without leaning on his elbows, Crowley took the opportunity to feel up his partner’s body. He began at his thighs, squeezing and rubbing and from there moving upwards to his soft hips and belly, stopping at his chest to pinch and tug at his nipples. He smiled as Aziraphale’s breath hitched at the contact, and at that moment he decided that after this he would find whoever that person was who didn’t like soft and make sure that their car’s tires could never hold any air again.

 

Aziraphale leaned in with another wet, open-mouthed kiss, using both hands to squeeze Crowley’s thighs, one damp with their own slick.

 

“Spread your legs, dear.” Aziraphale said in a hushed tone.

 

Crowley didn’t have to be told twice. He opened his legs as Aziraphale readjusted himself, preparing for what he was planning for next. He placed a kiss on Crowley’s hip, moving downwards, kissing, licking, nipping at his skin. The demon felt his heart jump into his throat. He was about to get sucked off by a fucking _angel._

 

Before he even realized, Aziraphale had already swallowed his dick down to the hilt, glancing upwards at Crowley and giving him a sly wink (which had nearly just finished off Crowley right then and there) before moving, bobbing his head up and down, a finger prodding at Crowley’s asshole. 

 

Crowley had one hand clutching the bedsheets, the other tangled in Aziraphale’s curls, not so much directing him rather than just needing something, anything to hold on to.  

 

“Jes-, Sata-, fucking whoever I don’t fucking care, _Aziraphale!”_  Crowley was practically sobbing his name in between the other various moans and yelps that flew from his throat, trying desperately to thrust his hips up to meet Aziraphale’s mouth, Aziraphale once more showing off just how strong he really was by successfully holding Crowley down with his one free hand.  

 

“Aziraphale you _dirty_ little bastard, ah-Fuck! You-you’re, God, I can’t even fucking think when I look at you, you’re just-AH!”

 

The demon’s cries were music to the angel’s ears as he inserted another finger, taking a painfully long time to lick from the base of the shaft to the head, gazing up at Crowley with a flushed face and wet lips.

 

“I’m gonna-I’m, I’m close, oh, angel I’m gonna-“

 

“I don’t think so, my boy,” said the angel slyly. “I will not have gone and prepared you for nothing.” He kissed up Crowley’s happy trail, gripping firmly the base of his throbbing cock to stave off orgasm.

 

“Oh, you fucking little asshole!” groaned Crowley, hips trying to buck up into Aziraphale’s touch, desperate for stimulation that wouldn’t come. Aziraphale only laughed, looking up at him sweetly. “You know you’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen, right?”

 

“No need to flatter me at this point, angel, I’m already yours.”

 

“Crowley, I mean it!” He said, sounding a bit offended. “You’re beautiful, so beautiful. Your eyes, your face, your hair, your body. All beautiful. All so thoughtfully made, every last bit.”

 

Aziraphale brought his lips back to Crowley’s, kissing deep, letting Crowley taste himself on his tongue and lips. He let out a small yelp as Crowley wrapped his slender fingers around his dick, tugging it lazily, rubbing soft circles onto the head, slick with precum. The angel pulled away, nipping the demon’s bottom lip as he did. He released Crowley’s dick from his grasp, moving instead to hold his wrists together, pinning them above his head on the headboard. Crowley shivered under him, chest swelling with deep breaths, gazing at the angel with wide eyes as if he were the only other existing being in the universe.

 

“Are you ready, love?” Aziraphale asked, positioning himself between Crowley’s spread legs, coating his own dick with the lube he apparently miracled out of thin air.

 

“Of courssse I’m ready,” he hissed. “I’ve been wanting this for ssssix thousand damned years.”

 

“Ah, it appears I’m still going a bit too slow for you, yes?” Aziraphale let his hands slip down from Crowley’s wrists, sliding them down his lithe torso to the insides of his thighs, squeezing and rubbing them gently, soothingly, and just barely touching his aching cock.

 

“You’re a filthy little tease.” Crowley said with a whimper. “Please. Please just get on with it, angel.”  

 

“Have it your way, dear.”

 

Without warning Aziraphale gave a single, swift thrust of his hips, effectively burying himself completely inside Crowley, the sharp slap of skin on skin seeming to echo through the flat. Crowley didn’t see stars. He saw entire galaxies.

 

Crowley’s back arched, hands clawing at the bed sheets, overcome with the sudden fullness and the sweet burning sensation that shot throughout his entire body. He wanted nothing more than to call out his angel’s name, to sing him endless praises to him so holy they might burn his tongue, but all that emerged was a deep groan between gasps for air as Aziraphale began to pull out slowly and thrust himself back in with a snap of his hips.

 

“Is that okay? Do you like this?” Aziraphale asked as he set himself to a steady rhythm, panting slightly, sweat beginning to form on his brow.

 

“Hgn…hah, ah, oh shit, oh, fuck, ah, yes, oh sweet Hell yes, angel, Aziraphale-“

 

“That’s it, dear, let me hear you, let me hear you.”

 

“Ah-Aziraphale! Ah, fuck, faster! Please,” he gasped, “Please, give me everything, angel, please, oh _fuck,_ Aziraphale, _Aziraphale!”_

 

“Oh, Crowley, my dear-“ Azriaphale panted. He braced himself with one hand against the headboard, the other in a white-knuckle grip on Crowley’s hip, nails digging in to skin as he sped up his rhythm, his euphoria growing with each sweet moan and yelp he coaxed from his partner, savoring each sound. 

 

Crowley wrapped his legs around Aziraphale’s hips, squeezing the soft flesh as hard as he could, pulling him closer, wrapping his arms around his shoulders and doing the same, foreheads touching, hair sticking to sweat-soaked skin.

 

“Aziraphale-Aziraphale, I love you, I love you so much, Aziraphale,” he sobbed, “Ah, fuck, I fucking love you, you little bastard, I love you.”

 

“I love you, I love you too, my dear, my love,” said Aziraphale. He swiped his tongue across Crowley’s lips, parting them and letting himself in. “Do you know how perfect you are? How deserving you are of love?” he whispered against the demon’s mouth.

 

“Aziraphale-“

 

“My dear, my darling love-“

 

“Aziraphale, God, Satan, Aziraphale, angel-“

 

Aziraphale kissed his temple, down the cheekbone to his jawline as Crowley grasped his curls with one hand, raking down his back with his nails with the other. 

 

“Angel,” Crowley said in a hoarse voice, “Angel I thought I lost you. I thought it was hellfire in your shop, thought they burned you to nothing cause of me.”

 

“Crowley, dear,” said Aziraphale, slowing himself, cupping Crowley’s face in his hand. “What are those tears for? I’m right here, love.”

 

“For a while I thought you weren’t,” replied Crowley, voice cracking. “For a while I wished I hadn’t already used the holy water, wished I could have gone and drank it myself. I thought you were gone and there was nothing I could do about it.”

 

“Don’t say things like that.”

 

“I mean it, though. I would have, and I still wou-“

 

Crowley was cut off by a pair of soft lips crushed against his. “Please dear,” Aziraphale said as he broke the kiss, “shut the fuck up.”

 

The angel peppered him with soft kisses. “Don’t think about then, think about now. Now I’m here and so are you, and the world is still spinning, our sides aren’t at war. And I love you. More than anything.” He once more wiped away Crowley’s tears, the demon’s yellow eyes rimmed red, gazing up at him with a soft admiration. “Also, I still have my dick up your arse.” He added quickly.

 

“It appears you do,” Crowley said with a cocked eyebrow, a shit-eating grin on his face as though he hadn’t just been a blubbering mess not a moment before. “You gonna do something about that?”

 

“Oh, and I’m the bastard?” Aziraphale laughed.

 

“I’m sorry for the interruption before, angel, but it seems as though we have all the time in the world now to cry over feelings, so will you just shut up and fuck me?”

 

“Of course, love.” Aziraphale nuzzled into the crook of Crowley’s neck, feeling him kiss the top of his head and run his fingers through his hair in return.

 

And Aziraphale fucked him.

 

Crowley had been amazed at how intense Aziraphale had been before, but now…now he fucked him with such raw and animalistic energy that he felt like his bones had turned to putty, barely able to keep his hold around Aziraphale as they both cried, moaned and shouted over the heavy rhythm of headboard slamming the wall. 

 

“Oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck fuck fuck fuck-“ Crowley babbled. His vision was blurred with sweat and tears, his muscles beginning to twitch and spasm.

 

“Darling, my love-“ Aziraphale panted, “My love, I’m-oh, my beautiful darling dear, I’m-“

 

“Do it, angel, please,” said Crowley, “come in me.  Fill me up, Zira, come for me.”

 

“Together, we-we’ll come together.” Said the angel, gasping. He brought Crowley into another kiss, this one hot, wet, messy, Aziraphale tugging at Crowley’s cock, still keeping up with his sharp thrusts into his partner.

 

The two moaned around each other’s tongues as they both inched closer to climax.

 

“Crowley, tell me when you’re gonna-tell me when you’re-Heavens, Crowley, I just want to see you, please.”   

 

“I will. I am. I’m s-so close, so close, angel, I want to see you, too, I want to see you fucking come for me.”

 

“I love you, Crowley, I love you, I love every part of you-ah, ah fuck, my dear, my love, God Herself couldn’t take me from you. I’m-Crowley, I’m-Oh, my dear-“

 

“Angel, you’re-I-oh fuck I’m- _FUCK!”_

 

Crowley was certain those down on the street were able to hear him shout as Aziraphale pulsating inside of him as he came. He bucked his hips into his partner’s grasp, fueled by the look of pure ecstasy of the angel above him.

 

So this was what Teresa had been going on about.  

 

Aziraphale locked eyes with him, bringing their foreheads together once more, their noses touching, breath hot on each other’s faces.

 

_“Come for me, love.”_

____

 

There would have been silence if not for the light patter of rain on the window glass, the soft scratching of an old record playing somewhere in the flat, the slow, deep breaths of two occult, ethereal beings in an antique bed, tangled in each other’s arms.

 

Crowley lay there in a post-coital daze, lulled nearly to sleep by the steady rise and fall of Aziraphale’s chest where the angel held him close, playing mindlessly with his hair. With his other hand he held one of Crowley’s, Crowley rubbing softly the back of his hand with his thumb.

 

Aziraphale, for the first time in what must have been hundreds of years, began to feel his eyelids grow heavy. In any other situation he would have miracled himself into an awake, alert state, but instead let his corporal form be overtaken by the feeling for once. He might as well. It seemed Crowley already had himself, his breathing slow and steady, eyes closed and face relaxed, thumb no longer moving in soothing circles. 

 

He lay his head on Crowley’s, breathing the scent of whatever overpriced hair product he had in his apartment. Without moving a single muscle Aziraphale switched off the lights in the flat, a faint yellow glow bleeding through the thin curtains from the streetlight outside. He closed his eyes, listening to the light patter of rain on the window glass, the soft scratching of an old record playing somewhere in the flat. The slow, deep breaths of the ethereal occult being slumbering in his arms. 

 

Aziraphale and Crowley slept. They dreamt. Dreamt of the beginning of one of the universe’s first stories of love. Two beings of God’s own creation, meeting, for the first time, in a garden.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> LIKE I SAID this is pretty much my first time writing smut at all, so feedback and helpful critique would be super appreciated!!! Thank you so much for reading, this is the first multi-chapter fic I've actually completed so I'm kinda proud of it tbh. As always you can follow me over on twitter at @the5throommate!  
> Below is the final song for the final chapter. See ya next time !(•̀ᴗ•́)و ̑̑
> 
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FvzNeh4Mq1o

**Author's Note:**

> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZR_dEnR8hoM  
> (if ur new, and u probably are since i havent posted in a fucking hot minute, then the above link is a song that i chose to go along with the chapter! i think it adds a bit more too it, and it's fun tbh. no it isn't queen.)  
> catch me over on twitter @the5throommate


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